Silent Love
by KaleidoscopeOfWords
Summary: Didn't matter who said it, or what they said, but they saw the third companion alongside the pair. It was never just the two of them but three. Neji


**the meaning of silence and company of love**

"Love is beautiful."

"There's no such thing as love."

Rain clung to her hair, crystalline droplets that spun spiderwebs from strand to strand. She lowered her chin so that the thick pieces dropped to a curtain, separating herself from the boy beside her. Her hair was uncharacteristically down, but then again, she always wore it down when it rained. Maybe she was not as practical as she liked to think.

And really, she didn't get to hear him speak much. So when he reacted to her innocent sentence, though she wasn't surprised at the tone, she was glad for the string of words that came from him. Intrigued, but also desperate to keep him talking, she tilted her head. Dark, vivid eyes peaked through the curtain.

"It's because you've never experienced it, Neji," she countered, a teasing air coming about her voice. But she became serious much sooner than even she herself anticipated. "It's a sad thing to live life without having love as a companion, if not just for a day."

"And you've been in love?" The tone of his voice was condescending, not unfamiliar, easier to anticipate than her own responses. He snorted and turned his head away from her, blending with the darkening sky.

"I never - " She was clearly offended but cut herself short; her eyes blinked, whether rain water or tears spilling from them, it couldn't be told. "No. I've seen love, though. And I know I'll fall in love."

"You're too confident for your own good," he replied, though the tone wasn't as harsh as before. Maybe he realized he struck a nerve. But the next thing he said eradicated that idea. "In training, too."

Always back to training. The bitter thought danced into her mind, but she pushed it away. It wasn't the time or place to get angry with who he was as a person. And even she knew it was true. But that didn't mean it wouldn't hurt a little.

"Maybe so," she said slowly. "It seems kind of funny you'd say that."

His eyes turned towards hers; she used to flinch at the intensity of his state. But growing up with him changed her. She held his gaze.

"I mean, you're a very confident person." As soon as she said it, she laughed, because it was the most ridiculous thing coming from her, trying to sound nice in the process. He was confident, oh yes, and conceited and stuck-up and cold to everyone lower than him. He was the personification of confident.

She sobered up moments later; he was staring at her still, but it was all wrong. This whole conversation, the talking, the meaning, even her own words, all of it. Because Neji and Tenten understood each other too well to fill the silence with words. She already knew what was going to result from this conversation and so did he. So why was it still there, the words hanging, almost palpable, in the sky?

The silence that usually befell them lapsed over again. And she bit her lip to keep her from crying, realizing how miserable someone may think she was, from the outside looking in.

Their conversations would never be filled with many words nor much meaning. It was the simpler things, the way he held open the door for her after a long mission as they walked into their hotel. It was the way he told her to take the bed for the fifth time in a row, and she refused because it was just so ridiculous they couldn't share because it's not like there was anything going on between them, dammit. Her words, not his. Never his.

She was never very good at lying, except when her mind had tricked her into thinking it was the truth.

And so they went on, oblivious, two people who cared about each other to unfathomable heights but didn't really know it. Not really.

Not yet.

* * *

"I screwed this up."

Her teeth were gritted, and her lips held a ghostly pallor except for the fierce red that was smeared in the corner. It could have been smudged lipstick to match her blood red kimono.

It wasn't.

In another jolt of pain, her fists twisted into the man's shirt who carried her. With all she had in her, she didn't cry. Couldn't. She kept talking.

"I'm sorry I'm always the one to mess... up."

Her voice cracked at the last word, and she knew that if she didn't get ahold of herself, she was going to go against what she was trying to hard to prevent and cry. So she distracted herself from the blood pool at her stomach, distracted herself with the face of the man who was carrying her. The line of his jaw was set, and he looked a way she'd never really seen him look before. She cocked her head to the side, momentarily forgetting her pain. Maybe fear, maybe that was the emotion. Fascinated, she stared at him until her vision blurred at the edges. So dizzy. She needed to close her eyes.

"Stop it, Tenten."

His voice was so harsh that she didn't have a choice; her eyes flew up, coming to rest halfway, eyelashes fluttering. He landed rather heavily on his right ankle from a jump down a ledge. A string of curses fluttered out of his mouth, and she cried out as pain bloomed around her abdomen.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, and again she looked up, the emotion within him in that moment exceeding what she was used to. She must have a concussion; this mustn't all be happening...

As her thoughts wound incoherently around incoherent thoughts, she swore she saw a tear in his eye as he slid out of her vision.

"Quit it. Wake up. Tenten?..."

Silly concussion... silly dizziness... stupid Tenten...

When she woke up, it was all gray. No, as the room came into focus, it was more of a subtle white. Kind of like his eyes.

Neji. She turned around quickly, spinning on one foot, a scroll in her other. That was funny; her abdomen didn't hurt anymore. She glanced down and gasped as a reddish liquid pulsed beneath her clothing. Her eyes turned upwards again.

She wasn't in the white room.

She was on a battlefield.

And people were dying, and she was letting them down, she felt it subconsciously. Her mouth opened to speak because something was coming right for Neji at his blind spot. But no words came out. As much as that terrified her, she kept trying to scream, because she was always there to protect his blind spot. She was failing miserably because now she couldn't even move, couldn't breath -

She was reunited with blackness again. But now she could hear his voice. What on earth was he saying? He sounded worried...

"Goddammit, hang in there."

Huh. How strange. Was he talking to her?

"I did everything right."

A sudden revelation seemed to come to him.

"No. I should have been there."

It sounds like 'should have' wasn't good enough. She wished she could see him, see anything. This was such a weird dream, everything so black.

His voice began to fade, washed-out in her world of vivid pounding. It hurt, everything hurt all over. She tried to tell someone that, but again, she failed with words.

And then with the darkness.

The next time she opened her eyes, it wasn't black or white or battlefield. It was just irritatingly fuzzy. She blinked, and the room came into focus. Well, slowly. First she made out the shape of her hands and then the sheets and finally the room.

Oh.

And then she turned and noticed Neji.

He looked awful, from the sickish paleness of his skin, to the look in his eyes. It hurt to see him like that. She reached for his hand, and he took it.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice cracking like the flames of fire. He just stared at her. Worry pulsed through her, and she tried to sit up.

His voice and the naseua hit her at about the same time.

There was a clamor as he jumped up to push her back into the pillows and told her to _lay back down, lay back down_ in that oddly worried sort of tone. Monitors hissed upwards but then spiraled back down when she _'oomph'_ed against the pillow. Her hand came to her head, then flew to her stomach.

"Oh," she whispered, feeling the bandages, remembering. She turned towards Neji, unsure of what words to bring between them. After all, silence seemed to suit them well.

The sat in it, silence that is, for what seemed like an hour. He watched her the whole time, and though at first it was uncomfortable, it soon became strangely comforting. And she relaxed, listening to the hum of the monitor until she felt sleepy again.

But he didn't let her go under, not yet.

"Tenten, I want you to remember something." The tone in his voice was steady, but there was an undertone of urgency. She turned her head curiously, her eyes managing to stay open.

"It's never your fault."

And she nodded, too worn out to argue. But she reached for his hand again. And he took it without hesitation and leaned forward, resting his forehead against it. He was quiet for a moment, letting Tenten watch him with a placid expression.

"Don't scare me like that."

It was a whisper, a murmur, and she barely caught it in the state she was in. But those small words, this small experience... Sure, it would be disregarded while they trained and while they worked, but in the nights that they spent on draining missions, she would remember and maybe he would too. Would he?

* * *

It took him two more near-death experiences before he seemed to have enough with testing Fate.

They lay together in a hotel bed, the sound of muffled yelling and shattering of glass and commotion of a rough town beneath them. Tenten lay facing away from him, unusual, but not a first.

It meant something was wrong. How did he know? Because he knew her better than anyone.

He knew she thought she messed up again. It hadn't been her fault; actually, it had been, just not in the way she thought. He wouldn't try to make it better, because ninja didn't make excuses or give much reassurance to lost causes. She was strong and she'd be fine.

But that didn't excuse the fact that she'd almost died. Didn't excuse the fact that he'd almost been too late, that this was the closest she'd ever been to death.

So maybe that's what he whispered her name, once, twice, until he had to speak it levelly to get her attention. When she turned to him, her face was calm, a puzzledness pulling her eyebrows together.

"I believe in love."

She looked at him with confusion and then surprised. And she smiled, propping herself up on one elbow.

"Mm, what do I owe this sudden revelation to?" she questioned, sleep weaved into her voice. She yawned. "Do I owe it to your cousin's wedding?"

He just stared at her until she got the feeling that there was something going on. She swallowed, unsure of what was coming. He had that look in his eyes again, the look he got when she was hurt, hanging on the brink between life and afterlife.

"No?"

She felt the desperate need to break the silence, which was uncommon, because there was always so much silence between them; it was who they were.

"It's... my companion," he said, obviously struggling to tell her something. She remember that conversation faintly; it seemed like ages ago.

"Is that true?" she replied, surprise coloring her voice. She was still teetering on the edge, unsure of how far to push him.

"I feel its company strongest when you're hurt," he told her. "But its always there."

And she looked at him funny. And he looked at her for a long time too. Finally, she sighed and smiled and tears clouded her vision even though she promised herself she wouldn't cry in front of him, at least not too often. But there was was, wrapping her arms around him and crying, and she felt him cry a little too. And they recognized where they stood. They would never be married, never grow old together because sooner or later one of their luck would run out. They would never go any more public than the public had already seen and taken from it what they wanted. They would never officially be labeled as anything.

But the love was still there, and it was one of the strongest types of love out there.

Because they didn't need much to fill the silence. He knew what she was feeling and why, and she knew where he was and when. They both knew the others weakness and the others strengths, and they knew what annoyed each other and what pleased the other. They agreed on almost everything but weren't afraid to disagree; there was just not much need. When there was an argument, which was almost never, they were either subtle or very, very nasty. Because that's what it means to be in love; to care so much it hurts.

People would ask them sometimes. Ask them lots of things. If they were together, if they loved each other, if they were brother and sister, if they were best friends, if they were committed, if they were married. It depended on their relationship to the pair.

Didn't matter who said it, or what they said, but they saw the third companion alongside the pair. It was never just the two of them but three.

Can you guess who they were in company with?

* * *

**xx lalalalove is their company, if it was too hard to guess!**

**not as fond of the ending as i should be, but i'm pretty ****pleased. i haven't been involved in this series in a long time - hope i got their characters down okay.**

**i thought it was kind of cute. always liked their relationship, you know? what do you think?**


End file.
